Every Platypus Has His Day

platypusAnd this is mine. My Day. Not My Platypus. Try to keep up, please.

I am putty in the hands of Kathryn and Veronica today.

Pray for me.

The Platypus Express


There were some unusual and seemingly disconnected messages emanating from Kathryn yesterday, rather shocking and personal until coffee set in and the hemispheres of my brain re-connected.

“When you buy pants, what size do you buy?”

Didn’t she measure me seven ways to Sunday? I pass on the requisite data.

“As I thought… But not what your measurements indicated”


Could all the difficulty, turmoil, heartbreak, struggle and angst in my life come simply from the fact I’ve been wearing the wrong sized pants?

“This is Fun!”

For Kathryn maybe. Her pants fit.

Tomorrow. 10:30.

Photos will be taken.


(This post is SzymkowShort® The latest is blognology)